


felix felicis

by shikae (39smooth)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, hp!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/39smooth/pseuds/shikae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter!AU. Jongin is on his last drop of liquid luck. Joonmyun has swallowed the bottle and clasped his hands together in the pale imitation of hopeless prayer. They have survived. They are not alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	felix felicis

**Author's Note:**

> not-really-but-almost based on the quote:  
> "glassy-eyed, wet-mouthed and howling  
> the human body is a miserable fucking prison"  
> which didn't really turn out to be needed but helped anyway.

 

 

This is their rebirth.

He has laid down all his cards, and what a bluff he’s called. Joonmyun has tricked Death thrice, fooled Fate twice, and the last laugh belongs to him as he pulls the blinds down over Time’s eyes one last time.

The silver chain is heavy around Jongin’s neck.

 _You are to run,_  says Joonmyun,  _and you are to hide_. It is less than a whisper but even the strongest of winds cannot defeat the brevity in his words. The invisible barrier that separates the both of them is the strongest Joonmyun has ever cast, and Jongin dares not even press a trembling finger to it.

 _And what about you_ , snarls Jongin, words without bite but unflinching.  _What about you._

Jongin is on his last drop of liquid luck. Joonmyun has swallowed the bottle and clasped his hands together in the pale imitation of hopeless prayer. They have survived. They are not alive.

There is no  _lumos_ tonight. There will be no  _Patronus_  tomorrow.

Movement sounds in the far-off distance. The tides of battle are washing up against the soles of their feet, but Jongin has always been on Joonmyun’s shoulders. He has never gotten his feet wet.

There is a spine, twisting, distorting.

(Joonmyun doesn’t remember whom it belonged to.)

There is a smile, mangled, real.

(Joonmyun thinks it might have been him.)

And then, there is them.

 _You are to run_ , pleads Joonmyun, begs Joonmyun,  _screams_  Joonmyun, and he has never looked so much like his age before, nineteen years too old to not be involved in the war and nineteen years too young to lose all he has to it,  _you are to hide and don’t fucking go against me on this, you listen to me for this one time, Kim Jongin, don’t do this to me, oh god, please._

The fires of the enemies cast moonshadows around the clearing; they twirl and laugh to the voices of the almost-living, the almost-dying. The fire that is reflected in Joonmyun’s eyes is of an entirely contrasting nature.

Consuming. Fueling. Unyielding.

(Jongin can see his own reflection.)

This is his rebirth.

He has laid down all his cards, and all his chips have been bled. Joonmyun smiles now at Death evaded, stretches out his palms to Fate played, and he laughs when the fury arises, when the shouts thicken, when they discover that he has given up his Time to give the boy saviour more time.

The  _lumos_  is Jongin. The  _Patronus_  is him.

The spine is his. The smile is his.

And he is Jongin’s.

 _Love,_  dear, wonderful Luna Lovegood had told Joonmyun once, when they were fifth year and seventh year,  _is the answer to the riddle. It is love that brings the broken pieces back together with a thread of molten gold, but destroys the monsters under our beds. It is love that saves, and it is love that heals, but it is love that hurts, and it is love that grieves._

And it is love now, that has driven Kim Joonmyun to push Kim Jongin to the ground and shove his magical reserves into the creation of an impenetrable shield, holding as long as he still possesses air in his lungs. It is an act of love that saves the Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One. It is an act of love that destroys the last vestiges of  _them_ , Kim Joonmyun and Kim Jongin.

Joonmyun knows this. He does.

(Jongin does not.)

Wands dance. Lights speed across the air like memories from long ago.

The quiet meeting of a quiet boy on a train. Laughter, roaring past with the Snitch in hand. A single scarf wrapped around their necks. Falling in the lake. Falling in love. Living together. Dying together.

Tonight, only one of them truly dies.

(And it is not Joonmyun.)

 _Go_ , says Joonmyun, and a memory catches him across the chest. It slows him down none, and the pain in his features cannot even dare compare to the adoration in his gaze.  _Say the words._

The barrier flickers.

_Say the words._

The barrier flickers.

 _Jongin_ , and his voice is the lightning bolt that strikes the skies and imprints itself on skin that he will never press warm lips to, ever again.  _I’ll always love you._

(He means to say,  _do not fear. Do not be afraid. I will wait, and I will stay, and you will come back to me, and I will come back to you. And you will not fear anymore._  But he can only cheat Time once.)

The moon is a sickly yellow. A fired curse flashes green. His hand falls to the ground, ruby red.

 _Felix Felicis,_  whispers Jongin, and the portkey whisks him away in thunder blue.

-

 


End file.
